At the start of the new week, Lin Yuhui arrived at the office to find many employees still absent during working hours, though he didn't know why. Not one to pry, he didn't inquire about the reason and simply focused on his own tasks.
The office felt quieter without the chatterbox and the constant matchmaking cries. Beyond the physical silence, his mind felt clearer too. Lin Yuhui’s productivity soared that morning. After finishing his tasks, he had time to browse the web and check the spread of the pandemic—not through official reports, but through netizen comments. Everyone had their own beliefs, and based on his life experience, he trusted the voices of ordinary people more.
“Damn, after getting that vaccine shot, I feel like I have a bad cold,” grumbled Dylan as he rolled up one sleeve, exposing his shoulder, and strode into the office.
Oh, Lin Yuhui understood—they must have gone for the COVID-19 vaccine. A few days ago, Safir had sent out a notice and tallied the number of people willing to get vaccinated. He hadn't signed up because of his poor cardiac blood supply.
Sure enough, his colleagues gradually returned to the office. They had all gone for the vaccine—likely their first dose.
“Hey, Seres, how did you feel after the shot?” Dylan couldn't help asking as soon as he saw someone return.
“Nothing much, just a bit dizzy,” Seres mumbled.
“Stephanie, how about you? Why do I feel hot and cold, like I'm coming down with something?”
“I didn't feel anything,” Stephanie replied dismissively.
“Hey, David, how did you feel after getting yours?”
“I didn't get the vaccine. My heart isn't good enough for it.”
“Oh, geez. If I'd known that, I wouldn't have gotten it either. I feel like I'm catching a cold. I'm skipping the next shot.”
Listening to Dylan's complaints, Lin Yuhui found it amusing. He thought to himself: I gave you all the relevant information, but you didn't research or think critically for yourself. Now you're just regretting it. Lin Yuhui didn't believe Dylan would change his mind next time and skip the vaccine. His current choice was based on fear—not understanding what he feared or why. Next time, he'd make the same choice driven by the same inner fear.
“Huh? David, what else did you say about vaccines last time?” Dylan circled back to ask Lin Yuhui.
Lin Yuhui didn't want to engage with someone like this. He lacked discernment—even if you gave him the right information, he might change his mind again someday, leaving you as the one blamed. So he gave a vague brush-off, avoiding technical details:
“Nothing much, really. Different people react differently to vaccines. Plus, different vaccines vary. Any reported side effects are just isolated cases.”
“Side effects? Oh well, I already got mine,” Seris chimed in from the side.
Lin Yuhui turned to see Seris smiling at him.
“Well, it's done now,” Lin Yuhui said with a resigned smile. He had already shared the relevant information with them; the rest was their own choice, and they would bear the consequences of their own decisions. Lin Yuhui knew they would still get the second shot. Adverse reaction data showed a positive correlation with the number of doses administered. She had researched related case studies and statistics, choosing to believe them herself. But she couldn't force others to share her conviction. They had the right to choose what they believed.
Lin Yuhui understood this was much like her concern for Seris—Seris might not necessarily agree with it. The morning hours slipped by quickly. Then several unfamiliar faces entered the office—IT staff from the floor above, here to gather user requirements for an upcoming company database update.
The Quality and Project departments were handling the meeting, which didn't involve Lin Yuhui. It seemed to be one woman and two men. They sat across from his workstation, discussing their workflow with Stephanie and Laila from the Project Department to clarify needs. However, since they were busy with their own tasks, they only conversed with the visitors while continuing their work.
Lin Yuhui found it puzzling. This was a prime opportunity to enhance the functionality and convenience of the IT support system, yet Stephanie and Laila seemed unenthusiastic. Was this typical of women? Or was it because the people they were talking to were also women?
Lin Yuhui glanced up. A petite young woman with shoulder-length wavy hair—whether naturally light brown or dyed was unclear—wore a floral dress with a deep red base. As he observed, she happened to turn her head toward him. Their eyes met, and Lin Yuhui froze for a moment. It was the new girl he'd seen in the cafeteria that day. She didn't seem to have graduated long ago and was majoring in computer science.
After just a moment of eye contact, Lin Yuhui looked away. He didn't want his heart to become entangled again, didn't want that exhaustion, didn't want to let anyone down because of his circumstances. And there was his daughter back home—if he started a new life, he wouldn't be able to fully meet her needs. Lin Yuhui always thought too much before taking the first step. Was it planning, hesitation, or cowardice?
Perhaps more realistically, he had weathered the lowest depths of his life alone—illness, poverty—while everyone around him failed to lend a hand. Instead, they scolded and humiliated him, kicking him while he was down, distancing themselves, stripping him of everything before leaving. He hadn't died—not from illness, not from starvation. He had survived, but what remained was merely an empty shell.
Lin Yuhui extinguished that faint glimmer of hope within him—a light too distant and unrealistic. He resolved to live solely in his own world, focused on his own affairs. Yet he could no longer bear listening to Laila and Dylan's work-related chatter. They never once considered systematically addressing the issues in their workflow collaboration. Instead, they merely treated symptoms rather than root causes, never attempting to plug the loopholes in the program logic that allowed errors to occur.
Lin Yuhui stood up and addressed Laila across the room,
“No, no, no—work procedures can't be handled like this.” Laila sat there, staring at him blankly.
Lin Yuhui proceeded to explain, drawing the attention of the female researcher who had come to observe.
“See, that procurement work order you mentioned earlier was sent from the project department to procurement, but its origin was the design department. Now that you can't source the materials specified in the original design and need substitutes, you can't just decide this with the procurement department. You need to feed the procurement change information back along the path of this work order to the design department, so they can also confirm this change. Otherwise, you'll be held responsible.”
Lin Yuhui's tone carried a hint of sternness. Though the young Laila had worked at the company for years, she hadn't considered many details. His concerned tone stemmed from a desire to prevent her from getting into trouble.
After stating his viewpoint, Lin Yuhui shifted his gaze toward the visiting researcher, seemingly hoping she would confirm the need to incorporate this feedback function into the IT system.
Only when Lin Yuhui shifted his gaze again to survey his colleagues and prepare to sit down did he realize that his earlier impassioned remarks had made him the center of everyone's attention. He wondered, had his behavior been that exaggerated?
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